My Boyfriend is My Doctor

Episode 72 Michael’s First Night Alone With the Twins: Chaos Ensues

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving the condo bathed in a soft, golden glow. Marnie had retired early, exhausted from the day and the constant presence of Michael hovering over her every move. She had insisted on getting some rest, reminding Michael that she needed her energy for the twins’ kicks and the occasional flurry of morning sickness.

Michael, however, did not retire with her. Tonight was going to be different. Tonight, he would experience first-hand what it truly meant to care for the twins on his own.

The Calm Before the Storm

Michael paced the living room, reviewing his mental checklist for what felt like the hundredth time. He had organized burp cloths, towels, blankets, baby wipes, a selection of night-time snacks, and even a meticulously labeled cooler of breast milk alternatives.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, squaring his shoulders. “You’ve got this. You’re a doctor. You’ve protected Marnie from minor catastrophes. You’ve prepared for the apocalypse. How different can two tiny humans be?”

He glanced toward Marnie’s bedroom. She lay peacefully, one hand resting on her swollen belly, her soft breathing a comforting reminder of what he was protecting. He felt a surge of both pride and anxiety.

Protecting her is one thing, he thought. Protecting her and the twins is another level entirely.

The first faint stirrings came soon after Marnie fell asleep. The twins were already awake, testing their father’s resolve. Michael pressed a hand against Marnie’s belly, feeling the tiny kicks ripple through her.

“Alright, you little mischief-makers,” he whispered, crouching beside her bed. “Tonight, it’s just me and you. Daddy’s on duty. Understood?”

A sharp kick jolted him in the stomach.

“Noted.” He straightened, trying not to wince, and steeled himself for the night ahead.

Feeding Frenzy

The first challenge came when he realized that the twins were remarkably vocal—or at least, as vocal as unborn twins could be. Every time he whispered to Marnie or adjusted the pillows behind her, a kick would follow, almost as if they were testing his reflexes.

“Patience,” he muttered to himself. “Patience and observation.”

Marnie stirred slightly, murmuring, “Michael…”

“I’m fine,” he whispered back, suppressing a groan. “Just… a little… footsie kick from twins one and two. No big deal.”

Half an hour later, Michael decided it was time to test his “feeding schedule.” He prepared a small snack for Marnie and arranged a cozy blanket so she wouldn’t move too much. But as soon as he placed the fruit puree beside her, the twins kicked sharply again.

“They don’t like strawberries,” he muttered. “Okay… note to self: twins have opinions. Highly specific opinions. And they will communicate them via kicks.”

The Diaper Debate (The Imaginary Version)

By 10 PM, Michael realized that his anxiety over the twins was escalating to absurd levels. He had already rehearsed diaper changes in his mind, even though the twins were still months away from birth.

He set up two dolls in the nursery, demonstrating techniques he had researched online for hours. “No sudden movements,” he muttered. “Secure the head. Keep the arms straight. Swaddle firmly but comfortably.”

Half an hour later, Marnie stirred again and whispered, “Michael… you’re really taking this too far, aren’t you?”

“I… cannot risk it,” he said seriously. “This is a simulation. I must be ready.”

She chuckled and rolled over. “You’re insane.”

Michael ignored her comment, carefully practicing swaddling and feeding techniques while occasionally checking Marnie’s belly for signs of twins’ movement. Every kick made him jump slightly, and every whisper of a stir from Marnie sent his heart racing.

Unexpected Wake-Ups

At 11 PM, the twins initiated what Michael would later refer to as Operation: Chaos. One twin kicked sharply, startling both him and Marnie. Another followed immediately, and suddenly, he was on high alert.

“Okay… okay… calm,” he whispered. “Twins, calm. Daddy is here.”

He tried to soothe Marnie, gently rubbing her back. She murmured softly, “Michael… it’s okay…”

“No, it’s not okay,” he muttered under his breath. “They are testing boundaries, and I am unprepared for this level of chaos.”

Every subtle kick, every flinch from Marnie, and every sigh from the twins in utero escalated his anxiety. He realized that despite his meticulous planning, nothing could truly prepare him for the unpredictability of life with the twins.

The Midnight Emergency

By 12 AM, Michael was exhausted. His shoulders were tense, his palms slightly sweaty from the adrenaline. Just as he began to sit back in relief, Marnie shifted, groaning softly.

“Michael… I feel… a bit crampy,” she whispered.

His head snapped toward her. “Crampy?”

“Yes… maybe just Braxton Hicks,” she said, trying to reassure him.

“Maybe?!” he exclaimed softly, voice tight with concern. “We’re checking immediately. Stay calm. Stay calm. This is routine. Nothing unusual. Just… precaution.”

He grabbed the phone and dialed the hospital’s maternity hotline while simultaneously taking her blood pressure, checking her pulse, and reassuring her with every breath.

Marnie watched him with a mixture of amusement and awe. “You’re panicking,” she said softly.

“I’m responsibly panicking,” he replied. “And making sure my wife and twins survive this evening.”

After a tense twenty minutes and several reassurances from the nurse, Michael finally allowed himself to relax. The twins were fine. Marnie was fine. He exhaled, sinking into the couch beside her.

“Never again,” he muttered, resting his head against her shoulder. “I thought I could handle the night alone, but… no. Never again.”

Marnie smiled softly. “You did fine. Really. You’re learning.”

“Learning is not enough,” he replied. “Perfection is required. Twins are perfection in training. And I… must be perfect for them.”

Cuddles and Confessions

By 1 AM, Michael and Marnie were settled on the couch, twins gently kicking in response to their father’s heartbeat. He held her close, whispering reassurances to both her and the babies.

“You know,” Marnie said softly, “I think they love you already. Maybe even more than me sometimes.”

Michael chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Impossible. But I won’t argue with their feelings. They are small, but fierce. Like their father.”

She laughed softly. “You were panicking five minutes ago. Fierce isn’t exactly how I’d describe you.”

“I am fierce in protection,” he said, tone serious. “And in love. And when the twins arrive, I will be… fiercer. I will not let anything happen to you or them.”

Marnie buried her head against him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. “I know, Michael. And… I love you for it. But maybe… let’s survive the next night together before you plan the entire twin life schedule?”

He chuckled softly, stroking her hair. “Fine. But I’m not lowering my guard. Not for a second. You and the twins are my responsibility, Marnie. My obsession. My love. My life.”

And as the night wore on, the twins continued their playful kicks, responding to Michael’s heartbeat, his voice, and his gentle touch. For all the chaos, the panics, and the sleepless moments, one thing was clear: Michael Co was ready. Ready to be the father, the protector, and the husband he had promised to be—one chaotic, beautiful, exhausting night at a time.